


Waking the Dead

by unkissed



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mild Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2375855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkissed/pseuds/unkissed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus hates to be woken up. Which is not to say he hates waking up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> I thought Albus deserved some porn without pain.
> 
> For Scorpius, who likes to dance.

“Waking The Dead”

Albus hates to be woken up. Which is not to say he hates waking up – he loves when the morning finds him in Scorpius’ arms, all cozy beneath the blankets of their bed, ushering a new day with the only person he ever wants to wake up with for the rest of his life. No, Albus hates being rudely awoken before he’s ready – he’s rarely ready to wake up. As a growing teenager, Albus needs his sleep. Being on tour with his band doesn’t always allow him a regular sleep schedule. He can fall asleep anywhere when he’s tired and takes naps on the tour bus or on the plane between cities. He is known to take hour-long power naps in the hotel room or backstage before gigs.

Even when Albus sets an alarm for himself, he rarely heeds it. So his tour manager, Holden, is often stuck with the job of waking up Albus when Scorpius is too nice to do it. It’s a dirty job, waking the dead. Albus is a cranky son-of-a-bitch when he’s woken up. He resists it and tries to hide beneath pillows or couch cushions. Occasionally, Holden physically rolls him out of bed and Albus falls back asleep on the floor. The worst is when waking Albus for an early morning flight necessitates a bucket of ice being dumped on him.

Albus particularly hates to be woken up when he’s dreaming. He tries to crawl back into those dreams when he’s yanked out of them. If he’s having a good dream, Albus gets quite nasty when he’s forced to wake up. It doesn’t matter if it’s Scorpius who does it, Albus lashes out violently with lazily thrashing arms when his dreams are cut short by somebody shaking his shoulders. So Scorpius rarely even tries to wake him up when he sees those rapid eye movements, indicating Albus is in a deep sleep. 

 

~@~

 

Albus is flying. He’s on his Nimbus and soaring through the night sky with the stars streaking past like gold paint smeared across his eyes. The wind is cold, but there’s a warm body behind him. Scorpius is riding along with his arms wrapped around him. It’s been ages since either of them were on a broom – not since Hogwarts. And though it’s only been months, it seems like years since they were in school together. They’re in Los Angeles and it’s two in the morning, but it is the perfect time to sneak away while everyone is asleep or otherwise occupied with post-show nocturnal activities. Albus hides his broom in a spare guitar case just for these moments.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Scorpius whispers behind his ear. 

And it does. Everything feels good. Scorpius’ warm breath feels good. The cold, night air licking his arms and whipping his hair feels good. The broom handle between his legs even feels good – it feels better than good – it feels divine.

Albus doesn’t think flying has ever felt so sensual before. The broom is an extension of his body, and when he reaches ridiculous speeds, it trembles, and he can feel it vibrating right through to his bones. The color spreading across his cheeks indicates his bliss and his slight embarrassment. His broom shouldn’t feel so good wedged in the furrow of his seat – but it does, and Albus resigns to be a bit of a pervert.

His reply to Scorpius is a simple, euphoric moan.

Albus can practically sense Scorpius’ smirk when he says, “You like that, hm? Want more?”

Albus nods slowly and can’t help but let his eyes close as pleasure takes over. It feels so damn good that he doesn’t care if they crash. Even though he’s in control of the broom, somehow Scorpius is able to turn up the dial on Albus’ enjoyment.

When Albus opens his eyes, everything is white. The sun is shining and he’s facedown in white clouds, lying on top of soft, white, cottony fog. Everything is bright and blurry. And the feeling between his legs is warm and delightful. He’s no longer straddling a broom, but there’s still delicious pressure affecting him sweetly.

He realizes he’s naked, floating in the sky, and it feels natural to be sans clothing in the sky. The sun is warm against his bare skin and trails hot little kisses along his spine. The warmth and pleasure somehow enter him, as if the sun’s rays are penetrating his body. Albus moans quietly and writhes subtly, lazily, urging the sun to go deeper inside of him.

It becomes clear to Albus that Scorpius is the sun when he hears that familiar voice drawling smoothly, “Mmm, you feel so hot inside. So tight. I love it.”

And then it becomes apparent that the sun’s rays are Scorpius’ fingers, deftly plying him open. The clouds are cotton sheets that Albus wants to just sink into and get lost in. He’s still sleepy and he hovers blissfully in between consciousness and dream.

But then the pressure eases away, taking the pleasure along with it. Albus lifts his head off the pillow and glances over his shoulder to find Scorpius standing at his bedside, licking his two fingers obscenely before replacing them inside.

Albus clenches his hands in the pillow and arches his hips off the bed, keening like a needy cat. He blossoms readily at Scorpius’ touch. As he slowly grinds his growing erection into the mattress, Scorpius delves deeper, pushing and carefully stretching and pressing with precision. They move together in an unhurried rhythm that steadily increases as Scorpius nudges him towards a fever pitch. 

And then they’re moving desperately. Gentle manipulation gives way to jabbing thrusts of Scorpius hand that pull wanton, breathy moans from Albus’ open mouth. His hips are raised off the bed just enough for Albus to reach for his erection. Scorpius’ lithe, nimble fingers feel like heaven inside, but Albus wants more. Scorpius moves his position at the side of the bed and Albus inwardly hopes that he’s going to get properly fucked.

But then Scorpius is standing right by Albus’ face, wielding his beautiful, fully erect cock. He holds it by the base and playfully smacks Albus’ cheek with it in small, successive slaps.

“Wake up, Albie. Time to get up and suck my cock,” says Scorpius in a sing-song voice that makes Albus giggle.

Of course Albus obliges. He turns on his side, takes hold of Scorpius’ erection, and gazes up lovingly at his boyfriend, who is smiling down impishly like’s he’s done something terribly naughty.

“I knew this was a good way to wake you up,” Scorpius admits smugly.

Albus would concur, but his lips are already busy, mouthing the head of Scorpius cock with relish. He swirls his tongue around it and delights in the taste of Scorpius’ precome. He slides down over the turgid length, all the way down until lucent curls tickle his nose. He breathes in Scorpius’ delicately masculine scent and it fills him with so much want that he moans and feels his own cock twitch. 

All the while, Scorpius’ fingers are busy, working on Albus’ greedy hole. They find the special place deep inside Albus that makes his whole body tense with need and sends him into a desperate frenzy. He’s bobbing his head over Scorpius’ lap, slurping up every inch of Scorpius’ hardness with wet, sloppy, fervor. His fist works twice as fast over his own erection.

Scorpius is reaching into him so perfectly that Albus’ vision blurs as he’s sent back nearly to unconsciousness again. He almost clenches his teeth down on Scorpius’ cock when an orgasm tears violently through him. And just as Albus comes, he feels the fingers of Scorpius’ other hand clamp down in his hair. Scorpius’ come tastes like bittersweet love at the back of Albus’ tongue and he wouldn’t want it any other way. He doesn’t need to breathe. All he needs is Scorpius filling him in every beautiful way.

Scorpius sinks to his knees at the side of the bed to kiss Albus with an open mouth. Albus is still deliriously high on his orgasm and thinks it’s so goddamn hot that Scorpius’ spunk is still thick on his tongue when they kiss so fucking hard. Even though Albus has just come, he can’t stop stroking himself as he rides out the lingering waves of pleasure while Scorpius kisses the hell out of him.

It’s six-fifteen in the morning, and Albus doesn’t want to get out of bed. But he still thinks this is a more effective way of being forced awake on those days when he hasn’t had quite enough sleep. And while they shower together, and touch each other’s soap-slicked bodies more than is wise for such a busy morning, Albus and Scorpius will giggle and devise other good ways of waking the dead.

**Author's Note:**

> #AlarmCock


End file.
